


Atonement

by shinigami_yumi



Series: Atonement [2]
Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Complete, Could Be Canon, M/M, Spoilers, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 14:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18345179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinigami_yumi/pseuds/shinigami_yumi
Summary: Merlin can't say that he expected Bedivere, but yet another person washing ashore in Avalon is quite the surprise.





	Atonement

**Author's Note:**

> I know I said I was working on a long Merlin/Romani fic (and I am, yes, it's in progress), but this theory came to me in a dream, and I just couldn't resist.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Many thanks to [Matsuri_Kuu](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Matsuri_Kuu/pseuds/Matsuri_Kuu) for the beta! ♡

Merlin is watching the new Singularities when he senses it — a disturbance just like Bedivere, familiar yet out of place. When he's sure his intervention isn't needed elsewhere, he shifts his gaze — a glance at copper hair has him projecting to the shore.

This he has to see.

Romani doesn't know how long he has wandered these white sands. It's worse than the first time he was stranded in the desert. Any normal human should have died of dehydration by now, but… maybe this is the World's punishment. A fitting punishment for a coward who knew what he had to do, but couldn't find the courage.

To think he used to call Merlin scum. Well, he's probably outdone the Magus of Flowers now. And after all their squabbles about how inhuman Merlin could be, the half-incubus just had to get the last word in — saying crap like, “This is the most human choice you've ever made,” as he disappeared.

Even now, green eyes sting with frustration.

Still, he follows the faint trail of moisture on the wind. Sometimes, he collapses, drifts out of consciousness. But always, _always,_ he wakes again, he trudges on.

There's nothing else that he can do.

In this wasteland of his own making, even the sandpaper aridity of his throat and the bloody cracks on his parched lips are milder than his regrets.

He feels unworthy when he finally sees the lake. Up until the moment he actually reached its shore, he'd thought maybe it was a mirage, a hallucination, a new torment cast by the World because that would only be right.

But it's real. Real, cool, refreshing — an underserved relief.

He sinks to his knees in it, washes himself; he drinks, he cries. There's no one left to hear, to know, to see. Even that one constant… if he'd thought himself lonely before, this emptiness is incomparable.

Eventually, he swims out to the middle and stops.

But although he stops moving, he doesn't sink, and he's reminded of those old witch trials — floating meant you were guilty of witchcraft because even the water wouldn't accept such a sinner.

With a broken laugh, he flops back, staring up at barren skies. There's nothing. Nothing to do, nowhere to go.

Sand, water, grass — it's all the same.

Closing his eyes, he lets himself drift. “How do you do it, Merlin?” he whispers into the void. “Eternity is such a very long time.”

“Hey.”

“Mngh…”

It's cold. Wet. Sharp.

It's also strangely hard to breathe, and there's this repeated prodding in his side, just hard enough to annoy without being painful.

And that hauntingly nostalgic voice…

“How long do you plan on sleeping here?”

“Argh, just leave me alone, M—” He jumps awake. “Merlin?!”

“The one and only.” His exotic features framed by fluffy hair glittering iridescent in the sunlight, the Magus of Flowers has never looked so beautiful, and not for the first time, it takes Romani's breath away. “Greatest Caster of them all. Well, ever since you unceremoniously dumped the crown on my head, that is.”

“Since I— Oh.”

Realization hits him like that last swat from Goetia.

“Then the me of this world found the courage to pull through, after all.” He chuckles weakly as his vision swims. “That's good. I'm glad. I'm so glad… I'm not always this pathetic.”

Merlin taps his shoulder with his staff, drying him off with Magecraft, perhaps mistaking his trembling for a chill.

“Even believing that you would perish either way, you couldn't do it?”

Romani winces — to hear it in this voice… “I hesitated,” he sighs, fingers worrying a stray weed. “That was the only opening Goetia needed.”

“Hmph.” Merlin cracks a grin, “I suppose it's only human to fear death,” and offers his hand. “Come.”

“Where?” Romani asks, but he's already taken the other's hand and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. Just like before, this easygoing acceptance soothes him, draws him in, and he lets Merlin lead him along.

“Somewhere nicer.”

As they walk, the flowers dotting the grass by their feet bloom, and he finds his facial muscles and cracked lips protesting — he hasn't smiled since…

Well, Merlin's constancy is at least comforting.

The resident leads him up a gentle slope into lush grass and denser flower growth beneath warm sunshine. There's a sweet scent on the gentle breeze as Merlin guides him to sit on an outcropping of soft moss, and again, it feels wrong — he shouldn't be in this paradise.

“I never thought I'd end up here,” he says instead, but he's sure he's masked nothing — the hybrid can taste his real sentiments, after all.

Sure enough, Merlin lets go of his hand, and he misses the warmth, the contact, instantly — it's been so long. But he only lets it drop — this isn't his Merlin, after all, and even if it were, he doesn't have the right.

“Mm, if that Bedivere could, then there's no reason you can't, but I can't say I was expecting you.”

That Bedivere… must mean the one in the sixth Singularity, meaning that those events happened in this world, too. He wonders what else is the same, what's different — where is the divergence point? Are they…? Is it just…?

The other wanders off, and he's about to ask why he's been led here when he realises Merlin is searching the nearby flowers. Then the Magus bends to pluck a pale yellow cup-like bloom before skipping back to sit down beside him.

“Here, hold still.”

Dipping his fingertip into the flower, Merlin dabs the dew onto the cracks on dry lips and hands with surprising tenderness, and Romani watches in amazement as they knit shut painlessly before his eyes.

“Thank you,” he breathes, even though it's more than he deserves. “I—”

He's cut off by the thumb gently, sensually tracing his healed lower lip. “Better,” Merlin murmurs, “More like I remember.”

He chokes up on air, and he's not sure which of them closes the distance. Maybe it doesn't matter — the hybrid has that effect on people. And even though he knows — _he knows_ — they're not the same in any sense, the whole world falls away when their tongues twine, and he would give Merlin anything, _everything,_ all over again.

The other smiles into the kiss and deepens it, fingers combing through his tangled hair, and he hears himself moan — it's been _so long._ “God, I've missed you,” he gasps when they part for air, but he catches himself—

The spell is broken.

“Not me,” Merlin agrees gently, his knowing smile almost fond, “But that's all right.”

“You're cruel, Magus of Flowers,” Romani whispers hoarsely, reaching up to caress a flawless cheek. Hovering above him like this, it's too familiar, too painful.

Violet eyes twinkle. “How so?”

“You know exactly how I feel,” he accuses softly, and Merlin inclines his head, shifting to lie beside Romani with his head pillowed on an arm. This, too, is fraught with memories — halcyon days by their reckoning, a passing, fragile peace akin to a dream.

“And? Do you intend to dwell on what can never again be?”

“Heh.” He mirrors the position. “As usual, that's something you would say.”

“Perhaps yours is a human condition,” Merlin concedes, “But the past cannot be replaced. The future can only add to it. And those who live in the present can only move forward.”

Romani sighs. And yet… “Do we simply continue then?”

The other shrugs. “What do you plan to do? You can always return to Chaldea.”

“Ch—Chaldea?” He freezes — that name is guilt now, guilt, pain and grief. “How could I? It's not a return, for starters. And how could I possibly face your last Master? It's my fault a civilian recruit got dragged into this mess, my fault that their long arduous journey ended in futility. No, in the face of your world's victory, I should shrivel from the shame. I have no right to be there, Merlin. I'm not their Romani Archaman, nor yours.”

Merlin scoffs. “What nonsense. Will you stay here then? Feed me your guilt and regret for all eternity? Well, that's fine too, I suppose. It seems all versions of you are tasty.”

Embarrassingly enough, he blushes. He should be used to this by now, but Merlin's always had a knack for getting under his skin.

“It's not like this world's problems have any bearing on you, after all,” the Clairvoyant continues musing. “You have no reason or obligation to help.”

“Wait, problems? What problems? I thought you said your world successfully prevented The Incineration of Humanity.”

“We did,” Merlin confirms, “but the destabilization of the Human Order had further reaching consequences than anyone could have prepared for. What our Chaldea reclaimed wasn't a peaceful tomorrow, but a bigger war. Perhaps, in that sense, you've spared your team the greater pain.” Violet eyes that had been staring out into the distance suddenly snap to his. “Do you want to know?”

The future that would have come if he hadn't hesitated, if he hadn't failed… “Okay.”

The cambion brightens with delight, and though he should know better, “Close your eyes,” and he does. Gentle fingers stroke his hairline, relaxing. “Sleep.”

He must have obeyed because the dream vision starts, a flurry of images new and old. Merlin shows him scenes, probably highlights given their brevity, but he keeps pausing at seemingly minor moments, too. Amidst the remnant demon pillars, missing A Team, attack on Chaldea and invasion of foreign entities are snatches of conversation, throwaway lines even.

_“If only the Doctor were here…”  
“Doctor Roman would have…”_

“Manipulative scum,” he mutters, but there's no heat in it.

Their situation looks quite dire. If Da Vinci hadn't prepared a spare body, she'd be back at the Throne of Heroes by now, and even with Paper Moon, they never would have made it to the Lostbelts without her genius and support.

And maybe… maybe this is his chance. Maybe this is why he was sent here. If there's any way that he can atone…

“They could certainly use the help, if that's what you're asking.” He's snuggled into Merlin's side now, head nestled in a broad shoulder padded with layers of fine fabric.

“Mm…” He does want to help, but…

“Oh, get a grip, Archaman. Will you let your fears hold you back forever?”

He nods, gripping that familiar hand more tightly. “Even so, I'm not ready to face them. Can you give me some time?”

Merlin rolls his eyes, stretching like a cat — he really does resemble Fou sometimes. “You don't have to face them. Ever, if that's what you want. There are still things that only you can do. Nobody understands Imaginary Number Space better than you, Solomon; not even me.”

“Not even you?” Romani chuckles, eyebrow raised. “Wow, I can hear the pain in that admission! So what's your plan?”

The other sits up. “Make no mistake, King of Mages.” He taps Romani on the nose. “This will be difficult and dangerous, even for you. Even you can't guarantee you won't get lost, and there's no knowing if the Causality Loop you're trapped in will maintain its effect there.”

“Wh—what kind of slimeball says things like these _after_ convincing you to go?!” He jerks upright, indignant. “Besides, if they need the help, what are you still doing here?”

“Oh, this and that,” comes the dismissive reply, “Like you, there are things that only I can do,” with a conspiratorial wink. “Besides, we wouldn't want them to get too reliant on me. The others need their chance to shine, too.”

“Th— You—” He splutters. “What kind of narcissistic reasoning is that?!”

Merlin laughs, stealing a peck on the lips. “Mm~ You're _so delicious_ when you're riled up.”

Against his better judgement, he chases the contact, returns the offered embrace. Maybe Merlin is right, and he's thinking too hard about things that no longer exist. Maybe, here, they can build something good together.

“Jerk,” he mumbles, pressing their foreheads together. “But you'll help me?”

“My, my, are you relying on me? I can't imagine you not calling me useless trash.”

“Ugh, don't get me wrong.” Romani scowls, though he doesn't move. “You were terrible in my world, too. I've just lost my moral high ground.”

Again, the other only laughs as if delighted. “Of course I'll help you. As entertaining as this is, I do still want a happy ending for humanity, after all. In fact, take this.” He pulls a white cloak out of seemingly thin air and fastens it around Romani's neck and shoulders. “As simple as it looks, it's an artisanal creation of mine, a special Mystic Code packed with many functions!”

Indeed, he'd stopped noticing the effort, but it's much easier to breathe as soon as the cloak is on, and it's snug, comfy, soft — the perfect weight, texture and temperature.

“It doesn't come with a manual, of course, but I'm sure you'll figure it out.”

Romani groans, “There really is a limit to how useful or helpful you can be, isn't there?”

Merlin lifts him to his feet. “Well, if we don't put that intellect of yours to good use, you'll just grow rusty!” the other chimes brightly. “Now, if you're ready, shall we?”

Although he nods, he tightens his hold on familiar hands, and the cambion smirks, pecking him on the cheek as he pulls the hood up.

“If you miss me, dream of me every night?”

He smacks the winking minx. “Be serious.”

“I'm perfectly serious. How else will you know what to do?”

He huffs, but nods, closing his eyes. The spell cocoons him, strange yet familiar, and suddenly, he's floating. To say it's been a long time since he's seen this space is an understatement, but it's the same confusing mess of ever-changing sensations. There's something familiar just ahead, though, something he thought he'd never see again, and exerting his will just right, he alights on the steps.

On an unadorned yet stately white throne are ten rings. _Yes,_ he thinks, _this is how it should have gone._ And even though he doesn't have the right, he takes the only one that matters, slipping it on where his own used to be — it's too dangerous to be left here.

He'll do better this time, he vows as he turns to leave — he'll protect this world like he should have protected his own.

Just as it occurs to him that he never asked Merlin where he's going or how to get there, something responds to an object hidden in his cloak. Quieting his mind as he leaps off, he shuts everything out to focus on the connection, and suddenly, he's standing on solid ground again.

The evening sky is clear, the fresh cold air a crisp shock all the way to his lungs, and all around is ice and snow as far as the eye can see. Still, it's comfortably warm, and now that he's no longer in the garden, he notices that the cloak itself smells faintly of flowers. Smiling to himself, he searches the cloak and finds hidden pockets filled with various, seemingly random objects, but a folded sheaf of papers catches his attention — it's a musical score entitled ‘Per la Ricuperata Salute di Ofelia.’ Bemused, he puts it back in the pocket — he doesn't know what he was expecting.

As the sky darkens, he sees lights come on in the distance. For now, he decides, he should walk towards them.

He needs to find a good place to dream.

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, the premise here is that maybe the doctor sighted in the Lostbelts is Romani, but not our Romani. He's a Romani from a parallel "what if" world in which he failed to complete Ars Nova, and Goetia succeeded. Despite everything else disappearing, he alone remains because Goetia's existence and the Incineration of Humanity are predicated on the existence of Solomon and subsequently Romani Archaman, trapping him in a Causality Loop.
> 
> Of course, because I ship them, in that alternate possibility, Romani and Merlin are lovers. XD
> 
> But what do you think of this theory? Do you think it's possible? Let me know! Thanks for reading! ♡


End file.
